A Tidbit from The Meaning of Life
And it went wherever I did go.
Most people our age have sat down at least once to take in Monty Python. The Meaning of Life isn't my favorite movie, but the "Find the Fish" sketch took on new meaning when someone got around to closed captioning it. Lovely subtitles, mate. You did it for shits and grins? There's a whole lotta liver discourse going on there. Manually turn on the captions:
That was on my mind recently, birthed by the news of Jeff's FLD and cirrhosis. I put off finding the right video. I might have done so in perpetuity had my polyp biopsy not come back as "sessile serrated adenoma".
OH MY GOD! THAT'S... meh. It means I have more of a reason to change my diet back to healthy.
I've pondered our eating habits and came to the conclusion that most of the poor habits happened after we moved to Toronto. Our ability to cook (and store food!) was damn near difficult. It was easier to gobble up frozen pizzas, junk food like candy or chips, unhealthy beverages, and so on.
If we love each other, we must help each other cope with the dietary change. Late stage cirrhosis or ass cancer are horrible ways to die.
Being deprived of comfort food tends to make people bitchy. We make excuses for everything. I didn't need ice cream last night. Jeff didn't need that frozen pizza. He's gone a while without junk and he's paying for the vice today. I think he spent more time on the toilet than in bed last night. My insides are screaming, mostly from the pre-surgical diet topped by too much dairy.
I'm going to go sulk some more. I'll ponder how surreal our lives have become. Maybe I'll seek out a fishy fish. And then we will eat healthy, homemade chicken soup.